


Spiderman has a horrible night.  Deadpool comes to his rescue and does (almost?) everything right.

by graceandfire



Series: Deadpool (mostly) Saves The Day [1]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Adorable Peter, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Awesome May Parker (Spider-Man), Awesome Wade Wilson, Deadpool and his Boxes have inappropriate thoughts, Fifteen year old Peter, Gen, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Read the beginning notes please, spiderman whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-05-16 23:07:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19327966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graceandfire/pseuds/graceandfire
Summary: Spider-Man gets in way over his head with a seriously creepy villain and Deadpool saves the day.  Starts with some scary things happening (and almost happening) to Spider-Man and ends with lots of fluff and snark.****************************And for the first time since he’d started the fight tonight, Peter’s senses were blessedly, beautifully quiet.So he couldn’t really get worked up whenDeadpoolsquatted down in front of him, swords still out.  Didn’t even flinch when the guy reached out to poke at one of his many wounds.And for the rest of his life Peter Parker would remember the first words spoken to him by Deadpool/Wade Winston Wilson.“Shut up! I canseehe’s a mess, morons.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please note in the first couple chapters there is actual violence done to and threats of non con towards an underage Peter from a very creepy, very bad villainy guy. Also keep in mind that Spidey is a teenager in this fic and so, while I heart Spiderman/Deadpool, this fic is gen except for the occasional inappropriate thoughts by Deadpool and his Boxes because...let's face it, they are Deadpool and his Boxes.
> 
> Finally, if you're interested in reading this but threats of non-con towards Spideykid are a trigger, you can start with Chapter four.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spiderman has a horrible night. Deadpool comes to his rescue and does (almost?) everything right. I mean, keep in mind it's Deadpool so, yeah.
> 
> *****************************  
> Peter barely dodged the shiny tentacle arm whipping past him and, oh man, those things were sharp and really how had dodging flying tentacles from a human cephalopod become his life? Okay, maybe he should be used to it by now but STILL?!

Ow, shit, ow, shit owow _OW_ …Peter barely dodged the shiny tentacle arm whipping past him and, oh man, those things were sharp and _really_ how had dodging flying tentacles from a human cephalopod _become his_ _life_?  Okay, maybe he should be used to it by now but _STILL_? _!_

He avoided the next flurry of hurled spikes by a whisper, pausing on the wall he’d flipped up to, chest heaving as he gulped in air.  The baddie was older and looked average, average gray hair, average build, average everything except for the twelve maniacally waving tentacles and Peter hadn’t been able to tell yet whether they were part of the guy or some sort of exosuit.  Tentacles aside, it was the dead, dark eyes and the calm smile that were somehow more disturbing.

“Look, dude, there’s already a Doc Oc.” Peter shook his head, the banter automatic as he subtly worked his shoulder to see how much damage he’d taken when he’d been flung against that last wall.  “Have some originality. Unless, you’re Doc Squid? It really doesn’t have the same ring to it and, yeah, not the right number of tentacles and, what is it with villainy tentacles, anyhow?” Okay that was not his best witty work but he hurt every freaking where and was barely managing to keep ahead of the whipping tentacles and sharp metal spikes this guy had started flinging at him as soon as Peter entered the abandoned factory and interrupted the...he flashed back to the sight…when he’d found...Peter tried to push away the memory of the torn people, the bodies heaped on the side of the warehouse that he had been too late to save.   The blood and the...the other...too late always too late always too...he gritted his teeth, shoved the memory into a mental box and slammed it shut. Focus focus _focus_ , you idiot, focus and…

Oh no...Peter felt the five alarm sirens of his spidey sense at full blast and knew before it happened that it was going to be bad.  Adrenaline pushed his body as he tried to avoid the tentacles and spikes coming from all sides. Desperately flinging forward he felt a torrent of slashes and blows…the ringing in his ears as the hits landed, the bright flashes of pain and then...then…

Peter swam from unconsciousness,  unable to contain a whimper of confused pain even as the haze in his head slowly lifted.  Blinking he tried to move, felt icy fear when nothing happened and then everything clicked into horrifying clarity as he realized he was being held suspended in the air, arms and legs spread eagled by four tentacles and, as he strained against the bonds with every bit of his enhanced strength, Peter realized he couldn’t move.  The tentacles, whatever they were made of, were crazy strong, flexible and this wasn’t...panic tried to take over because he couldn’t get free.

He couldn’t...he couldn’t get free.  

The bonds tightened, pulling him tauter, pain singing through his overtaxed muscles and ligaments as the bad guy smiled, studying his captured prey.  

“So, you’re awake little spider.  Good, it’s pretty boring if you’re unconscious.”  His tone was matter of fact. “There’s no fear, no beautiful screams, no begging for mercy.”  

“Wow, dude, that’s not fucking creepy at _all_.” Peter managed to choke out, trying to hold back against the panic, nausea and pain pushing to overwhelm him.

“They always beg you know,” tentacle guy continued, ignoring Peter’s comment.  “Even when they know it won’t do any good. Even when they know their death is coming, bloody and exquisitely painful.”  The man cocked his head as he examined Peter’s suspended figure. “I wonder how long it will take you to start begging?”

Peter glared, “I’ve had a lot worse than you in my life, asshole.”

The man just smiled.  “Nooo, I don’t think you have.”  One of his free tentacles reached up to trace up Peter’s body and without warning stabbed the sharp point of it into his chest, startling a cry out of him.  Peter couldn’t tell how deep the blade had gone but it hurt like a son of a bitch. He bit back the next cry as another spike stabbed into his side, deeper this time, sliding in and out of flesh, blood leaking down the wound as Peter hung helplessly.

Tentacle man frowned.  “It’s not as satisfying when I can’t see your face,” he muttered.  “Well, we can fix that.” Before Peter could even freak at that comment a spare tentacle shot up and ripped the mask from his head, tossing it to the side.  

“There.  That’s _much_ better,” the man said, staring at Peter in satisfaction as Peter could only stare back in horror.  His face, his face was…

The man’s brows rose as he studied the unmasked Peter.  “A child? A _child_.  How interesting.  How...enjoyable. Most children are so fragile but you,” a tentacle brushed against Peter’s cheek in an obscene caress that he flinched from.  “You’ll be so much more durable. Can take so much more _damage_.”  The smile of delight caused Peter to redouble his struggles against his bonds.  “I’m _so_ glad you came to visit me, little spider.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I actually felt compelled to write fanfic again! That's what happens when you basically drown yourself in amazing Spidey/Deadpool fic which, come to think of it, is how I got sucked into writing fanfic the last time I posted. Keep in mind for anyone interested in following this that Spidey is a teenager and so, while I heart Spiderman/Deadpool this fic is gen. Not sure how long this fic will go but Deadpool will definitely make an appearance next chapter and then somehow Aunt May has to make an appearance because she is awesome and bad ass and will totally intimidate Wade and Wade may decide that Spidey needs to learn to fight better and...yeah.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uhm, Peter is still having an epically bad, scary night. Take heed. Almost noncon. Not even kidding. But...
> 
> ****************  
> And Peter Parker would always remember the first ever words Deadpool/Wade Winston Wilson spoke to him. 
> 
> “Shut up! I can _see_ he’s a mess, morons.”

When Peter swam back to consciousness again he wished he hadn’t.  Because he was still here, trapped in this nightmare. He didn’t know how long he’d been trapped but his advanced healing and his constant, blaring spidey sense driving spikes into his brain kept bringing him back, the smaller cuts scabbing over, the bigger ones trying to clot but he was getting weaker from the repeated damage and blood loss.  Even at full strength he hadn’t been able to break out of the tentacles clamped around his wrists and ankles and now…he wasn’t used to feeling helpless. Powerless. And even when he’d been beaten up as Spiderman he’d always had his mask to hide behind. The sick asshole in front of him had loved it when Peter hadn’t been able to hold back the tears of pain, the strangled gasps as he toyed with cuts and bruises, pressing down, reopening healing wounds, painting Peter in his own blood.

The bastard was still there, looking cool and unruffled, not even sweating, the tentacles extending out from him connecting to Peter in a sick, unbreakable bond.  He wanted to keep his eyes closed but the monster in front of him had already proven he’d hurt Peter whether he was looking or not. So he managed a glare, wishing desperately that laser beam eyes were a latent part of his powers that would decide to manifest _now_.  “Hey, asshole, you’re really kind of boring with this whole serial killer schtick you’ve got going.  I recommend some new material. You…”

“Shut up or I’ll tear your tongue out.” The brutal cuff rocked his head back as the man studied Peter.  “You _are_ a tough one.  Thank you for that,” he said in a polite manner that would have been funny except, yeah, nothing about this was funny.  “You’re very enjoyable to play with. But I think there’s so much more potential inside of you. So much more fear and pain and humiliation.”  He narrowed his eyes at Peter, considering. “Inside of you. Inside...ah, I think I know just the thing, young Spider.” Without warning the free tentacles tore at what was left of Peter’s suit, shredding it to pieces, then shredding his underwear, leaving Peter’s shuddering body fully exposed.  Peter hadn’t thought his panicked spidey sense could spike even higher, the shrieking warning almost enough to black him out. But unconsciousness remained out of reach and this, no this wasn’t, this really wasn’t good. This was not happening, this...

“You’re sick,” Peter spat out straining away from the tentacles that started ghosting over his body.  

The man nodded in agreement.  “Oh, clinically, yes, I am. Psychopath with extremely high tendencies towards sadism.” The man shrugged.  “It’s important to accept yourself, don’t you think?”

“No, no, look, you don’t have to do this, there’s always a choice.  There’s always a...you need help and…”

“You’re right, little spider,” the man nodded in agreement.  “There’s always a choice. I made mine. Now. You’re quite young.  Have you ever been penetrated?”

Peter's belly turned to ice at the words, as he felt the tentacles reaching behind him, exploring.  “No, stop, look, no stop, stopstop _stop_!”  His voice was young and high and scared and he couldn’t help it and he didn’t care because, “Stop! Please just…”

The man smiled, pleased.  “There’s the start of begging.  Excellent.”

This wasn’t happening, this wasn’t going to happen.  This wasn’t. Panic took over entirely as Peter bucked and yelled and it wasn’t, this wasn’t...“Stop,” he whispered as he felt a tentacle start to, “just…stop, stop, st...” 

And it did.  

Peter barely felt the crash as the bonds that had been holding him tight in the air released without warning and he fell heavily to the concrete floor.  Everything was hazy, his vision blurring around the edges as he squinted up at the two new tentacles thrusting out of the man’s chest and... _oh, those aren’t tentacles those are_...Peter watched the long blades withdraw from the body of the monster who, released from the blades holding him up slumped to his knees, a figure standing behind him.  It was a guy in a red and black costume. _Hero.  He saved me...Superhero?...he..._ he’d seen this guy somewhere, seen…The bad guy was staring down in surprise at the blood pouring from his own stab wounds.  Peter felt distant as he watched black and red guy-- _Dead...Deadpool?  That news article Ned showed us.  He’s a mercenary, he’s bad...no, he’s_ good _...he_ saved _me...he saved?--_ lift the two blades up to the bad guy’s neck and Peter frowned, his foggy brain trying to process something, he should...he should do something.  Black and red guy-- _Deadpool?_ \--was going to kill the _evilmonsterbadguy_ which was...wrong. Wasn’t it? He should...with the singing slice of blades monster guy’s head parted from his body and fell down, bouncing on the concrete, rolling a few times before coming to a stop with the face side up, mouth slack and gaping, dark eyes still wide in surprise.

Oh, that was...that was...an inner part of Peter shrieked that was wrongwrong _wrong_ and another part of Peter just watched because the bad guy was, had been, was going to...Peter stared up from the floor as Deadpool-- _Yeah, I think that’s Deadpool_ \--approached.  His swords-- _katanas--_ Peter’s inner nerd observed, were still out and dripping blood.  He looked, wow, really big and, even through the shock that Peter thought he might be in since everything was kinda floaty, the aura of menace coming off the man should have sent Peter’s spidey senses into overtime but, hey, maybe they’d been burned out by the _fuckingscaryevilsickbastard_ because, for the first time since he’d started the fight tonight, Peter’s senses were blessedly, beautifully quiet.  

So he couldn’t really get worked up when _Deadpool_ squatted down in front of him, swords still out.  Didn’t even flinch when the guy reached out to poke at one of his many wounds.  

And for the rest of his life Peter Parker would remember the first words spoken to him by Deadpool/Wade Winston Wilson. 

“Shut up! I can _see_ he’s a mess, morons.”  

Peter blinked.  Frowned. “Not a moron.  Asshole,” he muttered back, unconsciousness hovering at the edges.

Deadpool smiled down at him--it was weird how expressive he was behind that mask--and shook his head.  “Oh, not you, Spideykid.” He cocked his head to the side.  “Jesus, he really is a fucking kid.” His voice shifted, deepening into a growl as he looked at the headless body of the bad guy.  “We should _absofuckinglutely_ kill that guy again...dismember the _shit_ out of...Yeahhh, okay,” and his voice shifted into a higher octave, “ _fine_ , you’re right _this one time_...priorities.”  

Deadpool seemed...strange.  Although, Peter was probably having a mental breakdown right now so maybe it was just him?

And then Deadpool's attention shifted fully to Peter, the intensity of his stare almost tangible which was...still not scary. Weird.  

“Well, fuckity fuck, Spideykid, what’m I supposed to do with you?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter from Deadpool's point of view! I had to rewatch the first Deadpool movie for accuracy. I know. The sacrifices!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annddd...rescuing occurs! Okay, technically rescuing also happened last chapter but this time from Deadpool's POV!
> 
> ***************
> 
> “M, fine,” the kid slurred.
> 
> “Uh, I’m gonna call you a fibber on that one since from what I can see you can’t even move.” Wade poked at him again. “How old are you anyway?”

Wade was in a good mood.

_[I don’t think that’s allowed], White observed._

_{Yeah.  Frankly, it_ ’ _s_ _disturbing}, Yellow agreed._

“Shut it both of you.  I get to be in a good _moooood_ ,” Wade sang.  Because he, being awesome, had of course _awesomely_ tracked down the evil lair of the seriously creepy Douchefuck who needed unaliving.  It was slay-fun time _and_ , once he had proof of death, he’d also get a fuck ton of money for avenging some dead son or daughter or...whatever.  That point was hazy.

[ _That’s because the author thinks it’s not important for the storyline.]_

Anyhoo...

The point was, he had found the lair, ownership buried under a couple layers of corporations, but ultimately traced back to the name of one Everett Polton... 

_[Serial killer name]_

_{That’s namist.  I kind of like it.  Everetttt...Poltonnnnn...}_

Wade had recon’d the evil lair yesterday.  Serial killer Douchefuck had a decent security system but it had been toots easy to create a hole in it, bug the place and still have time to get his favorite Mexican takeout on the way home.  And a couple hours ago the motion sensors had tripped, alerting him that it was time to play.  

_[*Sigh* An abandoned factory.  How cliche.]_

_{Why couldn’t it have been a chalet in the Swiss Alps?}_

_[Uh...because we’re in New York?]_

Wade ignored the boxes.  Scaling buildings was not as easy as it looked and he needed to concentrate.  Too bad he didn’t have webs like Spiderman. That shit looked fun. Mmm, Spiderman.  That was one arachnid he’d like to...

_[Really?]_

_{Yeah, we thought you were concentrating on not falling to your death?}_

“There is always time to think about hitting fine booty,” Wade defended.

He slipped in through the window he’d marked as his reentry point and headed to the main factory floor where his sensors showed activity occurring.  The large room was mostly open space now with some old machinery still gathering dust. He entered high, crawling onto the open duct work to get a sitrep.  From his vantage point Wade could easily spot his target. Hard to miss since Douchefuck had tentacles…

_{Ooh, tentacles means sushi!  We should go for sushi after!}_

_[Gross.  No. No raw food.]_

Wade’s intel had said the tentacles were laced with organics and an incredibly strong metal compound.  Another military experiment gone evil, fuck them very much. The tentacles were a complication and Wade had been considering a distance head shot except right now Douchefuck’s attention and tentacles appeared fully occupied torturing a dude so he could probably sneak closer and... _hey, holy FUCK, it’s Spiderman_!  

_{Ooh, if we rescue him maybe he’ll give us his autograph!}_

_[Wow, uh, Spiderman looks like a kid.]_

Wade paused, good mood flipping into shock because...what the _actual_ fuck.  Spiderman really did look like a kid.

_[Oh, he looks pretty bad.]_

_{Uhm, yeah.}_

Spiderman was a kid.  Spiderman was a _KID._ And he was...Wade watched as Douchefuck’s free tentacles ripped away the rest of Spidey’s uniform leaving the kid completely starkers.

_[I...do not like where this is going.]_

_{Fuck no.  This is not right.}_

“You’re sick,” Spidey kid spat out at Douchefuck as the tentacles roamed over his body.  

Every muscle tensing with rage, Wade watched the scene below, red blurring the edges of his vision and then he heard Douchefuck ask ”Have you ever been penetrated?”

_[KILL HIM.]_

_{KILL HIM.}_

KILL HIM.

Wade’s whisper quiet movements were masked by the kid’s scared, high pitched cries as he approached behind Douchefuck and fuck _yes_ it was _deeply_ satisfying when he drove his blades into the guy, twisting Bea and Arthur viciously as he pulled out.  Douchefuck slumped down to his knees, tentacles releasing the kid who crashed to the floor and stayed there, looking up at Wade with huge, dazed bambi eyes that made Wade’s stomach hurt.  Rage still burning Wade raised his katanas again, slicing Douchefuck’s head off in one efficient crossing of blades.  

Better.

Spideykid stared at the rolling head as if hypnotized until his gaze stuttered back to Wade who was crouching down to assess the youth’s condition.  Spideykid was pale and shivering in shock, body a mess of stab and slice wounds, covered in fresh and dried blood. He was also beat to hell, his face rocking the beginnings of spectacular bruising.  Yeah, the kid was definitely in shock since he didn’t even flinch at _Deadpool_ being this close to him, even when Wade reached out to prod at one of the wounds. It looked like it was clotting so Spideykid appeared to have some healing abilities.  Nothing like Wade’s but it gave him a better chance of surviving which was good...

_[No, look at him.  He’s a mess and he’s going to die.]_

_{Yeah, you suck.  He’s_ totally _a mess.  You were too late to save_ Spiderman _.  He’s going to d...}_

“Shut up!”  Wade snapped, stung.  “I can _see_ he’s a mess, morons.”  He remembered in self disgust the hour he’d spent dicking around after the sensors had gone off because, hey, no fucking hurry...the bad guy would still be there.  Fuckfuck _fuck,_ if he’d just gotten here sooner...   

The kid was frowning up at him. “Not a moron.  Asshole,” he muttered.

Despite his dark mood Wade had to smile at that.  Beat to hell Spideykid still had attitude. Nice. 

“Oh, not you, Spideykid.” 

_[Kid does have spunk.]_

_{Yeah, let’s keep him!  I mean if he doesn’t die.  We will pet him and feed him and call him...}_

Wade just cocked his head as he continued to study the pale, slight form of Spideykid lying on the floor.  “Jesus, he really _is_ a fucking kid.”  He turned to glare at the headless body.  He should have taken his time with Douchefuck, should have...“We should _absofuckinglutely_ kill that guy again...dismember the _shit_ out of…”

_[Do it!]_

_{Uh, maybe save the kid’s life first?  If, you know, we want to?}_

But he _really_ wanted to dismember...Wade paused, torn, before grumbling.  “Yeahhh, okay, _fine_ , you’re right _this one time_...priorities.”  

His attention shifted back to the slumped figure.  “Well, fuckity fuck, Spideykid, what’m I supposed to do with you?”

“M, fine,” the kid slurred.

“Uh, I’m gonna call you a fibber on that one since from what I can see you can’t even move.”  Wade poked at him again. “How old are you anyway?”

At that the kid’s eyes which had been slowly drooping shut shot wide as he stared up at Wade.  The sudden fear on his face highlighted how strangely absent it had been up to this point in their interactions.  “I...my...Jesus, my _face_ , my...no…my mask, you can’t see...”

“Hey, hey, kid don’t freak,” it really wouldn’t be good for Spideykid if he tried to move right now.  “It’s a very nice face. Really. I’d totally do you if you were older. Uh, I mean...oh, was that too soon?”

 _[Smooth.  Sexual references to the_ traumatized VICTIM _.]_

_{We would though.  And his face is adorable.  I kind of want to pet it.}_

_[You don’t have hands.]_

Wade wasn’t really listening to White and Yellow because the kid’s breathing was starting to come in panting gasps, tremors shaking his thin frame.

Wade held up both hands placatingly, realized he was still holding Bea and Arthur and hastily resheathed them before trying again, holding his now empty palms up again in a calming gesture.  “Okay, okay, you’re shy. About your face but not apparently about the rest of your totally naked body. Got it. Uh...” He looked around for inspiration and spotted the Spiderman mask lying a few feet away.  Snagging it he saw that it was mostly intact and held it up. “Mask?” He shook it helpfully. “Good mask?”

Spideykid shot out a hand and grabbed it, yanking it on with a speed that surprised Wade.  Damn, baby boy was fast. Then the kid slumped back down as if that last burst of energy had been all he had left.

It was an interesting look, the mask the only thing the kid was now wearing, emphasizing the rest of his nakedness.  In fact, this may have been one of his wank fantasies only Spiderman had been wearing a frilly apron, he _hadn’t_ been bashed to hell and he hadn’t been freaking _twelve years old_ and, fuckfuck _fuck_ , he’d jerked off to fantasies about a kid.  Shitshitshitshitshit…

_[Okay, in our defense we didn’t know he was a kid.]_

_{Doesn’t matter.  We are evil perverts now.  We deserve to die?}_

_[Well, you maybe but I…]_

“Shut up!  Both of you!”  Shit, he’d have to face the fact that he’d been slapping the happy stick to fantasies of...that later but for right now…

“You’re kinda strange,” the words were slurred, the tone matter of fact rather than judgemental right before the kid’s head slowly lolled to the side, his body relaxing into unconsciousness.  Wade held fingers to his throat to check the pulse. Racing but decent. Spideykid was tough as fuck but he needed medical attention.

Wade pondered.  He could leave the kid here.

[ _Yeah, right.  That’s clearly not how the author wants this story to go.]_

_{But if the story ends now we can go and get sushi!}_

_[No.  Sushi.]_

He could drop him at the nearest hospital but the way the kid had freaked about having his mask off Wade was guessing that would be a big, steaming shit pile of fuckadoodle-no.

Which left him with...sighing, Wade pulled out his cell phone.

“Hey, Dopinder, yeah I need a pick up.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was a bit nervous about trying to write Deadpool's POV but I ended up really enjoying it! Hope you did too! Happy 4th everyone!
> 
> p.s. Thank you for everyone who has left kudos! You are all awesome :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade patches Peter up.
> 
> *************
> 
> No one was truly pure on the inside except...
> 
> [Except he’s Spiderman.]
> 
> {He’s good.}
> 
> [Unlike us.]
> 
> Yeah. No arguing that last one.
> 
> “Well, c’mon Princess Pure, let’s put you to bed.” Wade picked Spideykid up and carried him into the bedroom. Setting him down he tucked the sheet and blanket around the kid and then froze in the act as eyes hazy with pain and exhaustion slowly opened, staring up at him in confusion.

“Mr. Pool!  How are you today?  Oh dear, your friend seems quite injured. Shall I drive you to the hospital?  Is that...oh my, is that the mask of The _Spiderman_ your friend is wearing?”

Wade waved as he climbed into the backseat and settled the kid crosswise, his head resting in Wade’s lap.  “We’re all good, Dopinder. Oh, but I do need to borrow this.” He reached out to grab the cab driver’s jacket from the front passenger seat and wrapped it around Spideykid’s body who was short enough that it covered him down to the knees.  “I’ll give it back to you later.”

Eyeing the blood that was already soaking through the jacket in dark spots the cab driver gave him a nervous grin.  “Uhm, no, that is fine Mr. Pool, please keep the jacket for the poor man.”  

“Thanks!”  Wade smiled brightly before shifting his attention back to the kid.  

“Uhm, Mr. Pool?”

“Yeah?” 

“Where to?”

“Oh, uh,” Wade considered and gave Dopinder an address three blocks from the place he was currently using as home base.  

“Very well, Mr. Pool.”

The drive passed in somewhat awkward silence as Dopinder kept eyeing the duo nervously via the rearview mirror while Wade was too focused on the kid to indulge in the back and forth he normally enjoyed with the young driver.  Spideykid had remained unconscious throughout Wade’s calling of Dopinder, his ~~temper tantrum~~ _anger management technique_ of repeatedly stabbing and dismembering Douchefuck’s body and his subsequent hauling the kid up princess style and carrying him out of the warehouse past the carnage of the other dead bodies.

_[You know, you probably could have saved them if you hadn’t gone home last night after recon.]_

_{Welll, they were strangers, we don’t...really care about them?}_

He didn’t care about the stupid other dead bodies.  Wade had been careful not to look too closely at them and Yellow was right, he _didn’t_ _care_.  

_[Spiderkid probably cared.]_

The dig hit home but Wade pushed it to the side as he reached out to take the kid’s pulse again.  It was racing wildly, faster than normal but then again the kid had powers so who the fuck knew what his normal even was.  But it wasn’t noticeably weaker than it had been in the factory so that was probably a good sign.

“You’ll be okay,” he murmured to the unconscious teen.

_[Will he?]_

_{I certainly hope so!  I’m feeling invested.}_

*******************************

After being dropped off by Dopinder, Wade carried Spideykid, still bundled in the jacket, the three blocks to his building and then up the five flights of stairs to the top floor, bypassing the elevator to lessen his chances of running into anyone.  He owned the building through a fake identity and had the top floor to himself, the other units all leased to hard cases with murky pasts, the benefit being they all kept the fuck to themselves. Well, except for Weird Mork who kept trying to borrow sugar.  

Punching in the security code Wade swept in, kicking the door shut behind him before laying the kid out on the living room couch, his pale form stark against the contrast of the dark leather.  

Right.  Medical attention.

Tugging off his mask and gloves, Wade headed to the bathroom closet and grabbed the unopened medical kit.  Not like he ever needed it but a good med kit was a habit from pre-unfreakingkillable days. When setting up a base camp or a hideyhole it was always important to have certain supplies such as a med kit, enough weapons and ammo to take over a small country, and HoHos.

Laying the med kit out--while munching on a HoHo, because, hey, he _had_ carried Spideykid three blocks, he deserved a snack--Wade unwrapped the kid from the now extremely bloodstained jacket.  Thankfully, he continued to embrace unconsciousness because a hysterical teenager would complicate shit.

_{But why would he be hysterical?  We totally saved him.}_

_[Right, I’m sure Spiderkid wouldn’t be upset at ALL waking up naked in a strange place with a notorious mercenary who has a face that only an aardvark’s ass would be attracted to.]_

_{...}_

Uh huh.  Wade was gonna have to go with White on this one.  He _really_ hoped the kid didn’t wake up for the patch job.

Removing the Spidey mask, Wade cleaned the kid down with wipes, removing the worst of the blood so he could better assess the wounds.  Feeling carefully along arms, legs and ribs he didn’t detect any obvious breaks--more subtle shit would have to wait. Most of the smaller cuts had scabbed over but there were three deeper ones still sluggishly bleeding, one on the kid’s side, one in his shoulder and one in his belly which was the most concerning because if it had penetrated his gut…was the kid’s healing factor good enough to handle that?

_[We should have taken him to the hospital.]_

_{But his super secret identity?}_

_[Will not matter if he_ dies _.]_

“Fuck,” Wade whispered, grimacing. Too fucking late to second guess now.  

Grabbing a throw he folded it a few times and draped it over the kid’s dick so he hopefully wouldn’t _completely_ freak out if he woke right now--and also maybe the kid’s being less naked would stop reminding Wade about all the jerking off he’d done thinking about SpideyKID ever since the hero had first hit the news--and started the process of cleaning and stitching the wounds.

_{Hey, maybe we should shoot our dick off for every time we’ve had a bad thought about Spideykid.}_

_[...I veto that.  Veto.]_

At the first stitch the kid shifted restlessly and Wade froze, waiting until he settled before starting up again.  The second time the kid began to stir Wade tried singing softly, “ _Itsy bitsy spiiiderrr went up a water spouuuut…_ ” 

[You know that song could be taken a certain sexual way when combined with your current subject of ministrations…]

Wade paused, tilting his head as he thought it through.  “Well, fuck, I will never think of that song the same way,” he admitted before switching to Journey. “ _Don’t stop belieeevvinnnnggggg…_ ”

Amazingly, it seemed to work, the kid remaining unconscious to the tunes of Journey throughout the fixup, his pale, still form twitching occasionally at the needle but never fully waking.  Wade tied off the last stitch with a sigh of relief, tossing aside the supplies as he stared down at the kid.  

He was so…

_[Not ugly and scarred like us.]_

_{Adorable!}_

Normal.  The kid looked so normal.  Wade thought back to the first time he’d seen Spidey on the news.  That had been, what, almost a year ago? Shit, this kid, why was he doing this?  He should be...doing whatever the fuck normal kids did, not that Wade had ever known what that was.

_{Well, Spideykid’s not normal either.  Dude can stick to walls and shit.}_

But...he seemed pure.  

Okay, wow, _stupid_ thought.  _Stupid fucking thought._   This kid might be a serial killer or something in his spare time.  No one was truly pure on the inside except...

_[Except he’s Spiderman.]_

_{He’s good.}_

_[Unlike us.]_

Yeah.  No arguing that last one.

“Well, c’mon Princess Pure, let’s put you to bed.” Wade picked Spideykid up and carried him into the bedroom.  Setting him down he tucked the sheet and blanket around the kid and then froze in the act as eyes hazy with pain and exhaustion slowly opened, staring up at him in confusion.

Wade opened his mouth but before he could say anything Spideykid blinked at him, mumbled “Safe,” and fell asleep again.

Wade stared down as the kid settled back into unconsciousness with a soft snuffle.

 _[Did he just call us_ safe? _]_

_{I...are we offended?  I can’t tell.}_

Wade just backed away, stumbling out of the bedroom to land heavily on the couch.  

What the actual fuck.  

The kid had looked straight at Wade’s bare face and hadn’t even flinched.  Well, Spideykid was traumatized and injured, maybe he hadn’t registered what Wade looked like.  But he had also called him safe. That...what the _ever loving_ _fuck_?  NO ONE had ever called him safe.  His entire life Wade Wilson had only had three things going for him:  his mouth, his looks and his talent for violence. All three had gotten him into trouble just as often as they’d gotten him out of it.  Now he was down to the mouth and the violence, both stepped up 1000% since he’d been turned into this.  

Safe?

Wade shook his head slowly.  “This kid’s fuckin’ crazier than I am.”

[ _Wow_.]

{ _Yeah, what he said._ }

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just saw the new Spiderman movie and loved it and Tom Holland is the most adorable of all the adorable in the land. I have to admit I've seen every single Spiderman movie out there and when a few years back they announced there was going to be a new one I sort of rolled my eyes because 'Seriously? Do we really need another one?' 
> 
> It turned out that yes. Yes, we did. 
> 
> Thank you again for everyone's kudos and for the kind comments! Next chapter from Peter's point of view!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter wakes up and there is interaction. And snark. And the realization by Deadpool that Spideykid has the survival instincts of a lemming. A stupid lemming.
> 
> *************************
> 
> Apparently sensing Peter’s impending panic attack Deadpool came to another stop a few feet from the bed. “Are you about to freak again? Oh, is it the mask thing? Look, Spideykid, I realize you’re all about your secret identity but I pinky swear I won’t tell anyone and since I kind of already know that you’re Peter Parker can we just move on and…”
> 
> “How do you know I’m Peter Parker?!” Peter shrieked. “I mean, what? I’m not Peter Parker, _I don’t know who that is!_ ”
> 
> Deadpool cocked his head. “Wow, you’re super suave at the lying, Spideykid. Totally James Bondish except...not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah hah hah! This chapter is twice as long as any other because the boys would basically not stop talking/snarking.
> 
> This was really fun to write. Hope you enjoy the read :)

Peter jerked up, instantly awake from a rush of adrenaline, his heart trying to pound its way out of his chest as he clawed up from what was holding him down tried to get away from the...the tentacles, the monster, the…getawaygetaway _getaway..._ instinctively he tried to jump to high ground, sticking to the wall behind him for a brief second before collapsing back down as his body told him how bad of an idea that was.

“Owwww,” he moaned, curling in on himself because _everything_ hurt even as his heart rate started to calm because he, he could move...he could move and he wasn’t trapped and he, his Spidey sense it wasn’t…

“Hey there, Princess, you’re awake!”

Peter jerked back against the bed frame— _he was in a bed?_ —and stared at the man standing in the doorway.  Dressed in red and black and— _Deadpool_ —it was Deadpool and...Peter felt something settle, felt some of the anxiety bleed away because Deadpool had…

”You.” Peter stared at the man.  “I remember...you saved me.”

Deadpool didn’t move from his post even as he smiled beneath the mask.  “Yup, I am awesome and I totally saved you. Sooo, how about you don’t freak out while I come over there to make sure you’re not dying from your wounds and shit?”

Peter had the impression that Deadpool was trying to look non-threatening.  It wasn’t really working because the guy was really big and still looked like a really scary mercenary that Peter wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alleyway even as Spider-Man. But then again, his spider sense wasn’t going off even a little and...if his hazy memories were right, Deadpool _had_ saved him from...Peter couldn’t contain the shudder as his thoughts shied from the memory of exactly what Deadpool had saved him from.

The other man’s words registered and Peter really looked at himself for the first time.  Everything hurt but he was mostly clean and there were...My Little Pony bandages over the worst of his wounds.  And he was naked. Flushing, he awkwardly scrambled back beneath the blanket and sheet grimacing at the protests from his injuries.

Looking back up he saw that Deadpool was still hovering by the door, not getting any closer.  Giving him space, Peter realized.

“I...I’m fine?  I mean, I’ll be fine, uhm but thank you for...for…” the words trailed off as Deadpool seemed to take that as permission to move.

“Cool, baby boy, but let me just, don’t freak, okay?”  Deadpool approached him like he was some sort of wounded animal which was kind of annoying because he was a superhero and...oh shit...he wasn’t wearing his mask.  He wasn’t wearing his _mask_!

Apparently sensing Peter’s impending panic attack Deadpool came to another stop a few feet from the bed.  “Are you about to freak again? Oh, is it the mask thing? Look, Spideykid, I realize you’re all about your secret identity but I pinky swear I won’t tell anyone and since I kind of already know that you’re Peter Parker can we just move on and…”

“How do you know I’m Peter Parker?!” Peter shrieked.  “I mean, what? I’m not Peter Parker, _I_ _don’t know who that is_!”

Deadpool cocked his head.  “Wow, you’re super suave at the lying, Spideykid.  Totally James Bondish except...not.”

“I...I, what…” everything was sort of freezing up, Peters brain short circuiting in a loop.  “How do you, why do you think that?” He finally asked weakly.

“Welllll, I mean I had your face and your approximate age and you hang out in Queens a lot and I assumed you were a student in high school so I just hacked into…” Wade must have sensed Peter’s impending panic attack because he cut off.  “Uh...it was really hard to do. I mean. Anyhooo...I won’t tell anyone?”

“Please don’t,” Peter whispered, staring up into Deadpool’s masked face, trying to read the man beneath it, trying to figure out how screwed he was.  “Look, I have people I need to protect. If my enemies find out they could hurt them and...”

“You mean like your hot aunt?”

Peter blinked.  His brain was having an aneurysm—this must be what it felt like to have an aneurysm—even as he saw Deadpool shift a little and shake his head.  

“Well, she is hot?  Why are you... _you_ agreed with me!  Oh, well, because…” 

And the other man seemed to be talking to himself now— _oh god, was Deadpool crazy?  Was Deadpool a_ crazy mercenary _who now knew Peter’s secret identity and the fact that he had a hot aunt??_ —and the only reason Peter wasn’t going crazy himself right now was that his Spidey sense was _still_ mute.  Maybe it was broken?  Okay, okay, okay…breathebreathe _breathe._

Deadpool was staring at him with what looked like concern.  “Uh, White says I freaked you out by calling your aunt hot?”

“No! I mean, yes!  I mean, I’m freaked out by the fact that you know I _have_ an aunt and you know what she _looks like_ and no one can know that!  Why do you know that?!” Peter stuttered out.

“Ah...I was bored?”

“Bored.”

“And, hey, I’m a freelance mercenary.  Research is part of my job.”

“Does, does White know too?”  Who was White? Oh, God, how many people knew?  

Deadpool stilled.  “White? How do you know about White?”

“You just said White told you that you freaked me out talking about my hot aunt!”

Deadpool tilted his head to the side, whispering to himself, before slapping his hand over his masked face.  “Ah, fuck, I did, didn’t I. I don’t usually tell people about them.”

 _Them_?  “Deadpool, look I need to know who you told.  I can’t…”

“No, no, no, I haven’t told anyone, Spideykid.  Remember, I pinky sweared. White’s just one of the boxes in my head.”

“Boxes?”  Peter felt his head start to throb.  This wasn’t making sense. Why was nothing making sense?  Did he have a concussion?

“Right, there’s White and there’s Yellow.  White is kind of a dick and Yellow is, uh, also kind of a dick— _shut it, you know you are_!—they’re just in my head though.”

“They’re...in your head,” Peter said slowly.  “Like, literal voices in your head.”

Deadpool waved his hand in a so so gesture.  “Eh...sometimes, sometimes they’re more like 4th wall breakers but close enough.  Anyhow, look, kid, I get that you’re all freaked and stuff about your identity and your hot aunt and I bet there’s all kinds of tragic backstory about that shit that Yellow says the author can’t wait for me to find out about but, can I just...y’know, make sure you’re not dying first?”

“I…” Peter studied the masked face.  “Can you...can you take your mask off?”

Deadpool tensed and seemed to grow bigger, suddenly looking twice as dangerous.  “Why the fuck do you want that?” he growled.

Because Deadpool knew his _identity_ and because Peter was freaking _naked_ and _injured_ and exposed right now in so many ways, and he was trying really really _really_ hard not to completely panic— _his identity had been discovered by a notorious MERCENARY—_ and Peter desperately needed some sign that he could trust Deadpool, how could he trust him, what if he couldn’t trust him, what if…”Just, please...I’m not wearing my mask so you shouldn’t.  Please?”  

Unless...what if Deadpool took his identity really seriously too and only took his mask off in front of people he was going to kill?  Oh, shit, maybe he shouldn’t have…

“Not a good idea,” Deadpool said flatly.

 _Okay, just say okay, just_ …”Please? I...just...it would make me feel better.  Please?”

Deadpool studied him in silence for a few very long, tense seconds before finally shrugging.  “You know what, they’re your fuckin’ nightmares, kid.” Reaching back he unfastened something and then slowly tugged the mask off, gripping it tightly in one hand.  Peter had time to see the scars—to have the fuzzy recall of seeing them before—while Deadpool stared down at the floor until the other man took a deep breath, jerking his head up to meet Peter’s gaze.  Deadpool’s body was one tense line, eyes wary. Braced for revulsion, Peter realized. But the scars weren’t what Peter was focusing on, it was Deadpool’s eyes. They didn’t _look_ like the eyes of a bad guy.  They were a soft brown and they, they didn’t look mean or scary or ‘I will sell your name to the highest bidder’.  They didn’t...he didn’t...he looked…

“It’s okay, kid.  I’ll put the mask back on.  I don’t blame you if you need to puke now or anything.”  The tone didn’t sound angry, just resigned.

“No!” Peter said, holding out a hand in protest as Deadpool started to raise the mask.  “Don’t. It...I feel better being able to see your face.”

Deadpool stared at him in disbelief.  “The fuck…”

 _You seem way more human now and your eyes are nice, not mean, and you look vulnerable like I feel right now and maybe I can trust you I have to be able to trust you and_ …and Deadpool was still looking at him like he was waiting for an explanation.

“You have nice eyes.”  Peter felt himself flush.  “I mean...that was not...I mean not in a...I didn’t mean to…”  Oh my god, he was an idiot and he was naked and he had just given a possibly open to misinterpretation compliment to...

“You don’t have a real high instinct for self preservation do you?” The tension was leaving Deadpool’s body and he looked a little amused, as if aware of every embarrassing thought going through Peter’s mind.

Peter huffed out a sigh and settled back on the bed as Deadpool slowly approached him again.  “That is apparently not one of my strong qualities, no,” he muttered.

“Well, good thing you have superpowers then,” Deadpool said cheerfully as he reached out slowly, telegraphing his moves, Peter realized.  “‘Cause let me tell you, Spideykid, you were beat to hell and back when I found you. Still are, but it looks like things are starting to heal up.  How does this one feel?” Fingers pressed gently into his stomach wound which, unbandaged, showed it had stopped seeping and was now an angry red line.  Peter flinched away from the touch but gritted out “‘m okay”.

“Rigghhttt.”

Peter tried to straighten up and look okay but apparently straightening up did bad things to all of his bruises and healing stab wounds... “Owww,” he whispered, gritting his teeth as Deadpool started to check over his various injuries.  Don’t cry in front of the badass mercenary. Don’t cry in front of the badass mercenary. Don’t cry in front of the badass mercenary...

He cried in front of the badass mercenary even though Deadpool was surprisingly gentle checking him over and also surprisingly not an asshole about Peter’s—very minor—sniffling and the ~~whimpers~~ groans of pain that made it past his clenched teeth as the other man checked over his work, restitching—”Don’t worry, self dissolving,” Deadpool informed him—the one wound that had torn open when Peter had tried to fling himself up from the bed.  And, as Deadpool kept up a steady banter that helped Peter distract himself from the pain, asking without drama or judgment if he needed a break, Peter realized that the badass mercenary named Deadpool was being a really decent guy.

Finally, after thirteen painful stitches, Deadpool pronounced with a smile that Peter would probably live because of his--Deadpool’s--awesomeness and he got up to grab a Captain America t-shirt out of a dresser, helping Peter ease gingerly into it and, while it swam on Peter, he felt about 1000% better wearing clothes of any kind.

Deadpool stood back and examined his patient.  “Sooo...I don’t know exactly how strong your healing abilities are but from what I’m seeing you should stay here another day or two before you crawl back to your not so secret lair in Queens.”

Peter blinked at that because...oh shit.  “Wait, how long have I been here?”

Deadpool tilted his head to the side.  “Mmm, a few hours.”

Shit.  “What...what time is it?”

The other man reached over and nudged an electronic Hello Kitty clock over for Peter to read.

3:47 am.  Oh shit. “Oh, shit.  Aunt May.” Okay, okayokayokayshitshitshit.  “I have to go.”

“No.”

“Look, my aunt doesn’t know I’m Spider-Man and she’s on night shift but she’ll be home in a couple of hours and she’ll check on me!”

“Look, Spideykid.  One,” Deadpool raised his index finger, “I did _not_ just patch you the fuck up so that you could collapse and reopen all of my beautiful stitchwork trying to get home.  And, two,” he raised his middle finger, “if your aunt doesn’t know about your extracurricular shit she sure as fuck will when you show up with,” he gestured at Peter, “all of that.”

“Okay, okay, okay.” Deadpool was right.  He couldn’t go home like this, he couldn’t… “I’ll tell her I’m staying at my friend’s house!  I...oh no, my phone,” Peter moaned. He’d left his phone in his backpack which was still webbed a few blocks from the building where he’d been fighting tentacle guy.  “I...can I borrow your phone?” he asked Deadpool hopefully.

Deadpool raised what would have been an eyebrow at him and then turned and left the room.

Was that a yes?  Apparently it was a yes because the other man returned shortly with a smartphone, tossing it over to him.  “It’s a burner. Keep it.”

“Thanks!  Thank you...I’ll just,” Peter punched in Ned’s number, vibrating with anxiousness and then groaning when it went to voicemail.  “Ned! Ned, if May calls or texts you I need you to tell her I’m staying the weekend with you for a, for a...epic Lord of The Rings Marathon.  Okay? And that I lost my phone and that I’m in the bathroom or something if she wants to talk to me. Dude, call me back as soon as you get this.  I don’t have my normal phone right now so call me back at this number. This is really important, Ned! Call me back!”

“Okay,” he muttered, thinking furiously.  When Aunt May got home and he wasn’t there she’d freak because she knew if he was planning to stay at Ned’s that he’d have texted her or left her a message or something.  Sooo…oh, oh, oh! He had an idea. But it was a really bad idea, was it? Wasn’t it? But Deadpool already knew apparently everything about them and if he was going to hurt Peter he’d had plenty of chances and he’d _saved_ him and...and…

Peter stared up at Deadpool with determination.  “Mr. Deadpool, Sir.”

“...Oh, Jesus, just call me Wade, okay?”

“Wade.”

Whatever was in his face caused DeadpoolWade to look instantly wary.  “What?”

“When you take a job your word is your bond, right?  I mean that’s your mercenary code?”

“Uhm, sure.”

“Okay, okay, I would like to hire you to slip into my house and leave a note that I write on the fridge so that when May gets home she’ll know I’m fine and at my friend’s house.  And, you could grab me some of my clothes…” he trailed off hopefully.

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Why not!?”  

“Because that sounds like an awful idea and White thinks it’s a plot device and, y’know what, kid?  I’m a mercenary. I don’t do shit for free.”

“I said I’ll hire you!”

“Do you have any money?  Because if you do it’s stashed somewhere very interesting.”

“No!  I mean I’d pay you later, uh, how much would it cost?”

Wade folded his arms.  “My minimum for taking a job is $50K.”

“But I’m just asking you to drop off a note!”

“And pick up clothes you said.  Look, if your aunt even notices you’re gone for one or two measly nights she’ll probably just think you’re out drinking or something.  You go home in a couple of days and she’ll ground you or...she doesn’t hit you, does she?” 

“What?  No, of course not!  But if I don’t come home without giving her a reason, she’ll freak!  And she, I can’t do that to her. I can’t! Please?”

Wade stared down at him.  Was he weakening? Maybe? “Please?” Peter tried to look as pathetic as possible.  “I’ll owe you.”

Wade had opened his mouth but paused at that last statement.  “You’ll owe me?”

“Yeah, yes!  I’ll totally owe you one.”

“For reals?  You’ll do anything I want?”  Wade had his head cocked to the side, considering.

“Uhm, but nothing illegal,” Peter qualified hastily. 

Wade reached out a crooked pinky.  “Pinky swear it.”

Peter reached out.  “Pinky swear.”

Wade stared at their entwined pinkies and shook his head.  “Wow. Seriously, Spideykid, you have the survival instincts of a lemming.  A _stupid_ lemming.  Did you really just give _me_ a blanket check favor?”

“No!  I qualified it!  I said nothing illegal!”

“There’s _tons_ of horrible stuff I can make you do that aren’t illegal!  What about if I demand sexual favors?”

“I...am a minor so that would technically be illegal.”

Wade considered this.  “Fair point. What if I said you had to spray paint ‘Spidey loves Deadpool best’ on the Avengers tower?”

“That...is vandalism and so would also be illegal.”

“Shit!  Okay, uhm, what if I said you had to skip around Brooklyn in your Spidey suit wearing a pink tutu and singing ‘I’m a little teapot’ at the top of your lungs?”

“...please don’t.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so here's the deal. I started this fic with the whole fully envisioned plot of "Deadpool totally needs to save Spidey and then..." _flaily arms_ "... _stuff_ has to happen!"
> 
> Yep. Sooo, this well planned fic is coming to an end, I'm thinking two chapters more, three at the most, but it's definitely going to turn into a series because I just keep having flashes of stuff that has to happen like, uhm, Aunt May goes on a date and Peter and Wade decide to stalk the shit out of that...maybe and also uhm, Wade wants to assess Spidey's actual fighting skills and realizes with deep, deep horror that he doesn't actually have any. Stuff like that. 
> 
> Anyhoo...thanks so much for the enabling/comments and kudos!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade is convinced--okay, really, bribed--to head to Spideykid's apartment to leave a note for May. That goes...yeah...not entirely according to plan.
> 
> ************
> 
> Spideykid was a freaking menace. To himself. He was the most naive, overly trusting…
> 
> [Idiot. I would go with idiot.]
> 
> {I think it’s kind of cute. But, yeah, idiot. Cute idiot.}
> 
> ...seriously, what the f---- was wrong with the kid? He’d looked up at Wade with those trusting Bambi eyes, he’d put himself in Wade’s debt just because he didn’t want to worry his aunt. Spideykid somehow thought that Wade was trustworthy as in _worthy. of. trust._ for f----y f---’s sake!

Spideykid was a freaking menace.  To _himself_.  He was the most naive, overly trusting…

[ _Idiot.  I would go with idiot._ ]

_{I think it’s kind of cute. But, yeah, idiot.  Cute idiot.}_

...seriously, what the fuck was _wrong_ with the kid?  He’d looked up at Wade with those trusting Bambi eyes, he’d put himself in Wade’s debt just because he didn’t want to worry his aunt.  Spideykid somehow thought that Wade was trustworthy as in _worthy. of. trust._ for fuckity fuck’s sake!  

This kid was not real.

{ _Oh, wait.  You think he’s a robot?}_

_[...I worry about you.]_

And now somehow here Wade was, breaking into an apartment in Queens to pin a note to Peter Parker’s fridge like a fucking grade schooler passing notes in class.  Okay, okay...just get in, leave the note, pack a few clothes in the duffel Spideykid had mentioned, get out. Simple job. No killing required. Or even any mayhem.  

{ _Boooring_.}

Well...yeah.

Slipping in through the window of Spideykid’s bedroom, Wade stopped and surveyed.  

Nerdy.  

 _Smart_ nerdy.  There was an actual poster of the periodic table on one wall, right next to a poster of some old guy who had probably invented science or something.  The room was mostly neat, a few piles of clothing lying haphazardly around and a desk stacked with textbooks and an open laptop with its screensaver cycling through photos.  The current picture showed the kid grinning with another nerdy looking kid, both of them...Jesus-on-a-pogo-stick, they were at a science fair and they were holding a ribbon.  They were at a science fair, _holding a ribbon._   

Super sleuthing skills were not required to determine that Spideykid was a giant nerdy nerd of nerd-dom.

Rummaging in the kid’s closet Wade found the duffel and quickly stuffed a couple of t-shirts, some boxers—heh heh, it was cute, they were so little—and sweatpants in.  Okay, first half of mission complete. Second half, leave the note and stealth the fuck out of here. If only his normal missions were this easy.

[ _Please, you’d be bored out of your mind.  More out of your mind I mean.]_

_{Yeah, we’re not even getting to beat anyone up.  Lame.}_

Point.

Anyhoo, he slipped out into the hallway and found the kitchen—not like it was a huge apartment—and stuck the handwritten note up on the fridge using a unicorn magnet because it was the cutest.

“All righty, then,” he turned around, rubbing his hands together, and stopped dead because a woman was standing at the entrance to the kitchen.  A hot aunt, to be precise.

Fuck.

Hot aunt—or May, because Spideykid had insisted Wade stop calling her hot aunt although c’mon, let’s be reals—looked at him with wide eyes and then, since there was apparently at least one Parker in this world with a sense of self preservation, she did what sensible people did when confronted with Deadpool.  She screamed and dropped the coffee mug that she was carrying, the mug shattering on the floor and sending hot coffee splattering everywhere.  

“What the fuck?!” hot Aunt May shrieked before lunging and grabbing a knife from the counter, which, Wade could have stopped her from doing except he was still processing the fact that he had gotten bad intel from Spideykid—‘ _oh_ _no, she_ never _gets home until after five, Mr. Deadpool’_ his deeply scarred _ass—_ not to mention the professional embarrassment that an _aunt_ had managed to sneak up on him and, also, that hot Aunt May was hotter in person than her picture.  Nice.

“Uhm, hi,” Wade tried.

“Who are you?!”

“I…” shit, what should he say? 

{ _Ooh, say you’re a Mormon missionary!}_

“I am just...burgling the place?”

_[I divorce you both.]_

Wade’s explanation did not seem to reassure.

“You…” her eyes went past Wade to the fridge and Wade realized she was looking at the note.  “That’s Peter’s handwriting! Where did you get that note?!”

“What…that note?  No, it was here already.  When I got here. To rob the place.”

“No, it wasn’t!  You just put it up!”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You...I saw you put it up, asshole!”

Ooh, Spideykid’s aunt had a potty mouth.  Hot.

[ _Focus_!]

Oh right, uhm, “No, I found it in the kid’s bedroom when I was uhm burgling it and I figured you might not see it there all hidden on his desk and stuff so, being a thoughtful burglar, I put it on the fridge to make sure you saw it when you got home.  Uhm, why are you home?”

Hot Aunt May was starting to look less terrified and more ‘the fuck is up with this fucker?’ but the kitchen knife was still firmly pointed at him, the hand holding it shaking only a little bit.  “Bullshit. Where’s Peter?”

“I don’t know a Peter but if you look at the note it says he’s at his friend Ned’s place having epic Lord of the Rings nerd fun so…”

Hot Aunt May glared at him.  “Don’t you move,” she ordered fiercely and yeah Wade planned to ignore the epic fuckballs out of that except there was only one exit from the kitchen and she still had it blocked so...shit.  Would Spideykid be upset if Wade knocked out his aunt? Just like...a very _minor_ concussion?

Hot Aunt May backed away just far enough to rummage by feel through her purse which was resting on a credenza in the hallway, never taking her eyes off of him as she dug out her phone.

Hitting speaker she waited while the phone rang.  

“Uhm, hello?”

“Ned!  Put Peter on the phone.”

“Oh, hi, Mrs. Parker!  Uhm, Peter is here. He lost his phone.  And...we are having an epic Lord of the Rings marathon…”

Wade made a ‘see’ shrug and hand wavy gesture at the magneted note.

“Put him on the _phone,_ Ned.”

“Wellll, Peter’s actually in the bathroom right now.  He, uh, might be in there awhile because...uhm, he ate something, it’s pretty gross so...oh, shoot my mom’s calling for me, gotta go, uhm, by Mrs. Parker!”

Wade and hot Aunt May stared at each other over the disconnected phone.

“What the hell,” hot Aunt May said slowly, “is going on?”

“I don’t know but,” Wade reached out to grab a Star Wars mug from the drying rack and stuffed it in the duffel before swinging the bag back over his shoulder, “my burglaring is complete so I’m just going to…y’know if you could just scootch out of the way I’ll...”

“Something’s wrong,” hot Aunt May murmured and her eyes widened, a hand going up to her mouth.  “Is Peter, is he okay?” she asked, a hitch in her voice and...oh, shit, were her eyes getting shiny? Oh no, nononono Wade did _not_ deal well with tears unless it was a direct result of his giving an asshole a well deserved beatdown.

“Look, I’m sure Peter’s fine!  You just heard Ned say so, right?”

“Ned is fucking lying!  Is Peter hurt!?”

Wade tilted his head in interest as he studied the woman.  “Uh, just, why would you ask that?”

May gestured at him with the knife.  “You’re some kind of superhero or vigilante, right?  I mean with the costume and, oh God, I knew he was going to get hurt.  Every time he goes out I worry and…”

Oh, shit, she knew.

“Oh, shit, you know.”

“Of course I know!  Peter’s my boy! We live together!  And, well, he’s not exactly a great liar.”

“Point,” Wade admitted.  From what he’d observed so far, Spideykid had the lying skills—not to mention the survival instincts—of a two day old kitten. 

A lemming kitten.  

A stupid lemming kitten.

“Sooo, just to be clear you know that he, uhm, is a fan of...spiders?”

[ _Wow.  So, so subtle_.]

“I know Peter is Spider-Man,” May said flatly.

Okay, well maybe he could work that.  Wade nodded rapidly. “Look, uh, yes, Peter—Spideykid—is slightly, like _really_ minorly injured but mainly is just doing some superhero stuff with me this weekend, like a mission and he forgot to leave you a note so he asked me to bring one, you’re home early by the way, and so he’s totally fine and...I gotta go and he’ll see you soon.  He’ll be home by Monday...Tuesday, tops.”

He took a step forward.  She didn’t move. He took another step forward.  

There were suddenly zero tears in fierce, fierce eyes.  “You are taking me to him.”

“No.”

“You...are...taking...me... _to_ _him_!”

Okay, enough was enough.  Wade drew himself up to his full height and deepened his voice to menacing because y’know what, he was fuckin’ Deadpool, he had the katanas and firearms to prove it, and he did _not_ need to deal with this shit.  “Look, hot Aunt May, Spideykid’s gonna be fine.  And this is way hella above your paygrade. So step the fuck back or I will have to _make_ you.”

 

***************

“Yeah, uhm, Dopinder, I need another ride.”  Wade smiled nervously at hot Aunt May who was glaring at him, arms crossed.

[ _Holy shit, that lady is scary.]_

_{Just do what the mama bear wants!  Just do it!}_

Turned out there were no sane and rational Parkers with a sense of self preservation after all.  

Fuck his life.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, at this point I see one more chapter and then an epilogue for this particular fic and then it's a wrap up but, as mentioned, there are some follow ups and alternate point of views--I kind of need to see this chapter from May's POV--I need to get out of my system so this will become a series. Thanks so much for those who have commented and/or kudo'd. This is such a great community :)
> 
> By the way, if anyone has seen 'My Cousin Vinny' from the 90's, that may be coloring my take on May. Slightly.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deadpool brings May back to Peter. There are feelings and stuff. And swearing. And bad intel.
> 
> ****************
> 
> “You weren’t supposed to…you were just...what the hell, dude?” Peter whispered fiercely as he squirmed away—”I’m fine, May, really, ow!”—from May’s prodding until her firm, “Peter, hold still,” had him freezing in ingrained obedience.
> 
> Deadpool stabbed an accusing finger at him. “Bad. Intel. You said she wouldn’t be home!”
> 
> “You are a super mercenary! A _super mercenary_! You couldn’t avoid my aunt!?”

Peter’s mind was slow to register the muffled activity nearby.  He’d been dozing, digesting the many HoHo’s that DeadpoolWade had scattered over the bed before he’d left with a cheerful, “Healing Spideykids need carbs!”

Ned had called him back and let him know that May had indeed called and that Ned had totally handled it—“She suspected nothing, bro.  Nothing. I was totally smooth.”—so it was all good. The HoHo’s had helped, providing energy for his healing body, and he was feeling a little better.  Still stabbed and bruised and in pain every time he moved but...improvement was occurring.

He heard the front door click, heard movement outside his room, and looked up as a figure appeared in the doorway, expecting Wade who had somehow become over the course of the night a refuge of ‘everything was okay’ except...oh no.  Ohnono _no_.

“Peter!”

Peter could only stare as his aunt dashed in and flung herself onto the bed, lifting a hand to his bruised face.  “Oh, my God. Peter! Your face! You...how badly are you hurt? Oh, my baby, oh...just, okay, strip. Now.”

And, as his aunt switched seamlessly from semi-hysterical aunt to professional nurse—tugging his shirt off to begin a clinical assessment of each and every one of his wounds—Peter glared in betrayal at the red and black clad mercenary hovering by the entrance.

In response to this Deadpool shook his head.  “Oh, hellza no, Spideykid. You don’t get to do the wounded and betrayed puppy eyes at me.  You gave me _bad_ _intel_.”  The older man sounded legitimately disgusted.   

“You weren’t supposed to…you were just...what the hell, dude?”  Peter whispered fiercely as he squirmed away—”I’m fine, May, really, ow!”—from May’s prodding until her firm, “Peter, hold still,” had him freezing in ingrained obedience.

Deadpool stabbed an accusing finger at him.  “Bad. Intel. You said she wouldn’t be home!”

“You are a super mercenary!  A _super mercenary_!  You couldn’t avoid my aunt!?”

“Wow.  I feel judged.  I’m leaving.” And, dropping Peter's duffel he'd been carrying, Deadpool turned and walked out of the bedroom leaving Peter alone with...taking a deep breath, Peter looked at May who was staring at the healing stab wound on his side.  She had lost her detached, professional face and instead looked like she was the one who’d been stabbed.

“Uhm, hi, May.  You’re probably wondering.  I mean, uhm,” and at meeting his aunt’s eyes, seeing the knowledge in them, the worry, Peter folded.  Folded so hard. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to...I didn’t want to worry you. I knew you’d worry and you’ve been through so much and...I’m sorry,” his face crumpled.

“Oh, Peter.” And suddenly he was wrapped in May’s arms and he was four years old again, having constant nightmares because his parents were gone and what if it was something he’d done and what if Aunt May and Uncle Ben left him too and…”’m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry,” he shuddered out while May whispered, “Oh, Peter, you’re so young, oh, Peter…”

It felt like forever and not long enough when they let go but the churning in his gut settled as they stared at each other, tears in both of their eyes.

“May, I, I can’t stop being Spider-Man,” Peter finally said.  “I don’t want to worry you but I _can’t_ stop.”

May shook her head. “Peter, babe, you’re so young.”

“But I have these _powers_ , May.  And I have to believe they were given to me for a reason.  Uncle Ben told me that with great power comes great responsibility and he was right.  He was _right.”_

_And I could have saved him.  I should have saved him._   

Peter had to make her see because he couldn’t stop.  He couldn’t stop.

May took a careful breath.  “Peter, I understand you want to help people and I, you’re just so bright and special.  You always have been even before, this,” she waved her hands at him, “whatever _this_ is, but...you could wait, honey.  There are heroes out there already like the Avengers and your Mr. Deadpool.  You could finish school, you could wait and figure out the best way to help people...”

Peter shook his head.  “The Avengers take on the big threats; aliens and world apocalypse stuff.  They don’t, they can’t protect people from being mugged, from being beaten up or worse.  It’s not their fault but they just can’t and...I can. I have to.” He gestured down at himself.  “Look, I know this looks bad but, usually, I’m just dealing with small time crooks…”

“Crooks with guns and knives, Peter,”  May pointed out.

“But I’m faster than they are and way stronger.  May, I’m _really_ strong.  I mean, I can pick up a bus...I have _literally_ picked. up. a. bus.  And I’m extra fast and I can stick to things—I know that’s weird but it’s also so, so cool—and I have a sense that warns me about danger.  It’s like this...buzzing that happens at the back of my neck, I call it my Spidey sense, and it helps me stay safe.”

May huffed out a laugh.  “Peter, that sounds _amazing_ —and, by the way, I am really, really looking forward to hearing about how exactly this happened to you because, _what?_ —but your powers didn’t help you tonight.”  She gestured at his healing wounds.

“Tonight was _different_.  This guy was enhanced too and he just caught me off guard”—Peter flinched from the memory of what had almost happened but—“but Wade, I mean Deadpool, saved me.  He did and I’ll be more careful. I _promise_ and, look, I heal really fast.  I’m already way better.”

May’s eyes took on a flinty look as she processed his last words, studying his varied wounds and bruises with a new perspective.  “Soo,” she said slowly, “that explains why your injuries don’t look new but...exactly how bad were your injuries to start with?”

Oh.  Oh, shit.  “Uhm, actually, not that bad,” he backpedaled.

May did not look impressed.  She stared at him and then turned her head to stare at the empty doorway.

“Mr. Deadpool!”

Nothing.

“Mr. Deadpool!”

There was a pause and then Deadpool sidled into the room wearing a frilly Strawberry Shortcake apron over his red and black normal attire and holding a spatula.  “Uhm, I’m just making pancakes out there and I don’t want to interfere in your sweet family reunion so…”

May gave Deadpool her ‘you will not even think about bullshitting me’ look.  “I need an entire inventory of Peter’s injuries so I know what I’m dealing with and so I can get a frame of reference for how fast he heals.”

Peter shook his head rapidly at Deadpool who stared at him, stared at May, stared back at him, stared at May.

“Okay, wellll, he had three major stab wounds, multiple lacerations but those closed up mostly by the time I got him back here which was about…”

“No, no, no!  It really wasn’t as bad as…”

“You were unconscious, Spideykid, so I’m not really sure you are the best....”

“Dude!”

“Well, you were!”

“Peter, hush.  Mr. Deadpool, continue.”

Peter glared in betrayal _again_ but apparently Deadpool was on team May now because the guy didn’t even blink as he went through a near professional assessment of the many, many injuries Peter had taken.

He was so, so screwed.

 

***************

 

Peter was asleep on the bed, stuffed full of the seventeen pancakes that he had inhaled before nodding off.

Hot Aunt May sat at the small dining table with Wade, sipping whiskey from the Star Wars mug that he had pulled out of Spideykid’s duffel, toying with the last of her own pancakes.  “He was always such a sweet kid, y’know…”

“Yeah, he seems sweet,” Wade agreed.  

“I...I never wanted kids…”  

“Who the fuck would?”

“Right?” hot Aunt May laughed.  “I mean, I thought he was a cutie, but I only saw him maybe once a month until...when his parents disappeared there was suddenly this scared little boy who needed so much of everything and was trying so hard to be good and was so sad and just... _needed_ me and I...I fell in love.  I love him. He’s mine. And I’m so scared that he’s going to be hurt, going to be killed, because there are so many bad things out there and Peter cares so much.”

_Fuck._ Wade officially did not know how to deal with this level of genuine emotion.

“Look,” he tried cautiously, “Spideykid’s really powerful and he’s...you’re right, okay, he’s good and sweet and he cares which...I don’t get it.  I don’t.” Wade shook his head because he really didn’t—Spideykid’s level of sparkly goodness was something he fanboyed the hell out of but didn’t actually understand; how someone could be _that_ good—and gestured at May.

“Maybe it’s you.  Maybe it’s you and this Uncle Ben who raised him to be this awesome person.  Maybe it’s just him and he’d be decent no matter how he was raised. Most people aren’t even one percent as good as him.  I’m not. Fuck, I’m _really_ not but he is _1000%_ good and...I don’t know.”

[ _Smooth_.]

{ _Not smooth?_ }

Wade shook his head.  Yeah, he was fumbling the shit out of this. He tried again. “I mean, okay, Spideykid’s an idiot.  A too trusting, too good idiot who cares about people way too much and, look, I know I’m not good _or_ safe...”

[ _Or worthy of licking Spideykid’s boots, let’s be real.]_

~~_{Ooh, kinky!  I mean, shit, I keep forgetting he’s underage.  Never mind._ }~~

“...but for what it’s worth, and I realize it’s probably worth crapola but, when I can, I’ll do my best to look out for him.  Because I don’t see how you’re going to stop him. He’s freaking _Spider-Man_ and he _does_ care...” he trailed off.

May was staring down into her mug.  “Ben was just like Peter. Always doing the right thing even if it got him into trouble.  Always caring so much. It drove me crazy sometimes because he was just so good. It’s part of why I loved him and it made me want to be a better person but...sometimes,” she huffed out a laugh, “sometimes I just wanted to whack the shit out of him for not being maybe a _little_ less selfless.”

She met Wade’s gaze.  “My kid is Spider-Man.  My _fifteen_ year old kid is Spider-Man.  I mean, _seriously_?  He still plays with legos and eats fruit loops for breakfast!”

“Fruit loops have lots of vitamins and important minerals?”

May shook her head with a laugh that had maybe 25% actual humour.  “How is this our fucking life?”  She studied Wade, even that small humor fading.  “You saved my boy, Mr. Deadpool.” Reaching out a hand across the table, she placed it on Wade’s, ignoring his flinch at the contact.  “There’s no way I can ever repay that.”

Wade stared down at their joined hands.  What the...people didn’t _touch_ him.  Not unless they were trying to kill him.  They didn’t...

“I...I don’t…”

“He could have died if you hadn’t been there.”   May’s voice was husky with unshed tears. “That boy in there?  That boy is the most precious person in this world to me. I lost Ben and if I...if I lost Peter, too, I don’t know what I’d do.  I don’t know how I’d, _if_ I’d get through that and I just, I will always, always be thankful for you.  If there’s ever anything you need you ask.” May’s eyes were dead serious. “You got that?  Anything. Because as far as I’m concerned you’re family now.”

Wade looked at her, stunned.  

[...]

{...}

“You...you don’t know who I am.  You don’t know…”

May glared him into silence.  “You didn’t have to save Peter but you did.  You saved my boy.  I know what I need to know about you.”  Nodding, as if everything was settled, she stood and began efficiently clearing dishes from the table.  “Now, the least I can do is clean up after the nice meal you made us.” Without another word, hands full of dirty dishes, May stood and headed for the kitchen as Wade sat, frozen.

His mind slowly rebooting he focused on one very clear, very undeniable conclusion.

Every single Parker was fucking insane.

[ _Agreed.]_

_{Wait...do we...do we have a family now?}_

Wade’s stomach clenched at Yellow’s question.

[ _Don’t be more of an idiot than you already are.  We don’t get to have a family.]_

_{But…but May said...}_

_[Shut up!  Besides, families are horrible.  They…]_

“Mr. Deadpool,” May interrupted Yellow and White’s impending argument, calling from the kitchen, “where’s your dish soap?” 

Fucking.  Insane.

Wade took an unsteady breath, stood up and walked into the other room to join her.  

“Just, uhm, just call me Wade.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added Note: Wow, everyone!! [LieSinPain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LieSinPain/pseuds/LieSinPain) who is an amazing artist created art for this chapter *hand spring* It can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16377944/chapters/47980507) and I love it *beams*
> 
> Original Note:  
> Okay, wow and whew, this is coming to an end! I just have the epilogue which is pretty short so I'll either post that today or tomorrow once I scrub it a bit more.
> 
> Oh, by the way, apologies to the couple comments I inadvertently deleted! I have realized something new (you all probably already know this). If you save a chapter in edit mode, when you finally post it, it posts as of the time you first saved it in edit! I had the last chapter in edit mode for a few days so when I posted it was immediately buried until I deleted it and reposted the chapter but that deleted the comments. *face palm*
> 
> Anyhoo, thank you so much to everyone who has left comments and kudos. It definitely keeps me going and this fic has been a blast to write *beams*
> 
> And my conclusion in this fic is...Deadpool deserves a family. And if you don’t like it, take it up with the May.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue for this fic because...I like epilogues :)
> 
> **************
> 
> “So, May says you should come to dinner Tuesday.” Peter paused long enough to roll his mask up and inhale half of the taco and, oh man, it was still warm. He made noises of appreciation. “Don’t worry, she’s not cooking. We’re doing takeout.”
> 
> “Yeah, she texted me about it.” Wade sounded a little weirded out by this. He apparently was still adjusting to the fact that May had decided he was family. In fact he tended to get this panicky, frozen look a lot which was pretty funny because...badass super mercenary? Not apparently when confronted with the May.

School was _finally_ over!  Peter was barely able to contain his shout of glee as he costumed up and headed towards his meet up point with Wade.  

It had been an interesting few weeks since Wade had saved him and May had learned about Spider-Man—okay, let him know that she’d _already_ known.  Some of it wasn’t fun.  He was still having nightmares he hadn’t told anyone about although, from her careful questions, May knew something was up.  Nightmares about Douchefuck guy—Wade’s colorful term was a way better name than tentacle guy—where Peter stopped Wade from killing Douchefuck guy who then ripped off Wade’s head and got Peter back in the hold of his tentacles and, yeah, he was maybe seriously conflicted about not being _more_ conflicted about not stopping Wade and, okay, just...he was moving on now.

At least May knew about Spider-man and was trying really hard to be okay with it.   He knew she worried whenever he put on the costume, knew she tried not to show it. There had been some hard discussions about boundaries, school, safety and trust not to mention sitting through one very uncomfortable meeting where May cursed out a very meek Mr. Stark in his office after May realized he’d known and ‘encouraged a fucking _minor,_ you fucking _asshole!_ ’  

But the extra rules and negatives were far outweighed by the sheer relief that May knew, he didn’t have to keep lying to her, and she was trying to be supportive about his ‘extracurricular activity’.  

Not to mention there was, well, Deadpool.

Peter swung onto the meet up roof, letting go early enough to do a double flip and land, superhero style onto the concrete to express the awesomeness of his current mood. 

He heard applause and grinned over at Wade who sat on the edge of the building, legs dangling over empty space.  

“ _Somebody’s_ been practicing.  I would give that a 9.8 out of 10 for superhero style, Spideykid.”  He was, in fact, holding up a card with a 9.8 written on it in bold, glittery pink, which he then disappeared back into his suit.

“Thanks.” Peter sat down next to the other man, accepting a wrapped soft taco from the paper bag Wade held out.

“So, May says you should come to dinner Tuesday.”  Peter paused long enough to roll his mask up and inhale half of the taco and, oh man, it was still warm.  He made noises of appreciation. “Don’t worry, she’s not cooking. We’re doing takeout.”

“Yeah, she texted me about it.” Wade sounded a little weirded out by this.  He apparently was still adjusting to the fact that May had decided he was family.  In fact he tended to get this panicky, frozen look a lot which was pretty funny because...badass super mercenary?  Not apparently when confronted with the May.

“Sooo, you’re coming, right?”

“Well, since she’s not actually cooking, I guess I can fit it in my calendar.”

“Cool.” Peter wisely left it at that.

After a moment, Wade turned to him.  “By the way, pun’kin, this weekend. You and me.  We have a date. I want to check out your non-existent combat skills.”

Peter scowled.  “I have combat skills.”

“Uh huh.”

“I do!”

“Uh huh.”

Peter rolled his eyes and attacked his second taco.  “I have mad combat skills. Mad.”

“We’ll see.”

Peter rolled his eyes again because he had mad combat skills.  Mad.  

He went back to inhaling as many tacos as possible.

“Hey, Wade?”

“Yeah?”

_Thank you for saving me, thank you for being my friend, thank you for being so cool, thank you for…_

“Thanks for the tacos.”

“Any time, Spideykid.”

The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnddd, that’s a wrap although not actually because yeah, this has not let go of me yet. Thank you!


End file.
